


Five Times Winry Rockbell Celebrated Father's Day

by Tabbyluna



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Father's Day, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Growing Up, edwin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 20:56:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19236934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabbyluna/pseuds/Tabbyluna
Summary: Winry Rockbell leads a simple life. And the simplest lives are often the ones most easily shaken. With life will come death. With death will come heartbreak. And with heartbreak will inevitably come healing.





	Five Times Winry Rockbell Celebrated Father's Day

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Father's Day y'all! I'm gonna have dinner with my family in a few ticks, but I'll just post this up here first. Hope you enjoy it!

The first Father’s Day Winry remembered celebrating happened when she was around four or five. When Granny Pinako and her Mama first told her about a day meant to celebrate all papas everywhere, she immediately got to work on a card. Papa loved her, and she loved papa, so she had to make a gift to say thank you. She grabbed her crayons, a fresh sheet of paper, and laid it all out on the big desk in Granny Pinako’s room. Ready to start her work!

With the steadiest hand she could muster, she drew four stick figures. The two short figures wore dresses, while the two taller ones wore pants. She hummed under her breath as she coloured them in. Using the method her mama taught her, she successfully coloured everything inside the lines. Granny would often praise her careful steady way of doing things, saying that she would make a wonderful automail engineer someday. Those compliments always made her beam with pride, and she was determined to do everything they way an automail engineer would. With carefulness and steadiness.

Once she was done with the stick figures, she drew their house. A large yellow rectangle, along with a red triangle. Plus a ton of green windows. Drawing the house was far less complicated than drawing the stick figures. Still, once she was done, she took a moment to admire her handicraft. Looking at the drawing, the wide smiles on the stick figures, she was certain her Papa would love it.

Running to the office, she went to get Granny Pinako. She needed her help to write a message for the card, and her own limited writing skills could only take her so far. Patiently, she waited for her grandma to finish up her work. Then when she was done, Winry handed her the card, and together they walked back to Granny’s room. Winry told Granny what to write, and in her neat cursive, she wrote:

_To Papa,_   
_Thank you for being the best papa in the world! I love you! I hope you will continue being the best doctor in the world too!_   
_Love,_   
_Winry_

She hid the card under her pillow. Every morning and every night, before she goes to sleep and after she wakes up, she would check to make sure it was still there. It grew increasingly wrinkled by the day, but it could always be found. And then the faithful day arrived, where she could finally give her card to him. That morning, Mama woke her up early so that they could prepare breakfast together. Excited, Winry pulled the crumpled card out from under the pillow, and ran to the kitchen as fast as she could.

Mama helped to make the card less crumpled. While Winry mixed cereal together with warm milk, Mama ran her rolling pin over the paper. With every roll, the creases smoothened out. Slowly the picture and the written message became clearer, although there were now smudges from the crayon and the ink. “This card is lovely Winry,” said Mama. “Did you draw this picture by yourself?”

Winry nodded proudly, and Mama beamed back at her. “I can tell you put a lot of thought into drawing it. It’s adorable.” She held out a hand to stop Winry from over-stirring the cereal, and reached for the berries to drop a few in.

When they finished setting the table, that was when Papa came walking into the room. Still in his pyjamas, looking misty-eyed and sleepy. Unlike Mama and her, he was not a morning person. When he saw the set-up before him, his half-lidded eyes opened up in surprise. Mama walked over to him and guided him by the arm to his seat at the table. Playfully, she pecked him on the cheek. He returned with a kiss on the lips.

“Happy Father’s Day, dear,” She said after they pulled apart. Quickly, she took her seat at the table next to him.

“Happy Father’s Day, Papa!” Winry parroted, presenting her card to him.

“Thank you very much, Winry.” Papa gratefully received the card from her, giving her a small smile. Eagerly, Winry watched her father’s face. His reaction did not disappoint her. The smile on his face started out small. But it grew bigger the longer he looked at the card, which in turn made her beam proudly at what her hard work had accomplished. He placed the card down beside his bowl of cereal, and kissed his wife on the cheek. Then he turned to Winry, and kissed her forehead..

“Thank you so much for this,” Papa said. He was grinning from ear to ear, touched by the effort the two of them made just for him. “Did you draw this yourself Winry?” She nodded.

“Well, you did an excellent job on this,” He picked up his spoon, and ate his first spoonful of cereal. “You’ve got the talent to become an excellent artist someday.”

“But Papa, I want to become an automail engineer. Just like Grandma.” she giggled.

“Well then, you can use those art skills of yours to design brand new automail designs for your patients. You never know what new kinds of body parts people will need. A good automail engineer needs to be creative.” Grandma entered both the room and the conversation, shuffling in her slippers to her seat.

“Good morning mom.”  
“Morning Pinako.”  
Grandma! Good morning!”

“Morning everyone. And happy father’s day, Yuriy. Now, where were we… Ah, yes, automail. Do you want to hear that time I had to make someone a drill for an arm Winry?” Asked Pinako.

Winry nodded her head eagerly. “Yes Grandma!”

“Oh, I remember this one! It’s the flood story, isn’t it?”

“Yes, now shush. She hasn’t heard this story yet. Don’t ruin the ending.” Pinako calmly mixed her cereal in with some milk. “Now, it all started one rainy day, when we heard that the dam was close to breaking…”

And there the family sat. Engrossed in Grandma’s story, eating their cold cereal together. It was a feeling Winry would never forget. The unity and the love in the room. There was a warmness there that could rarely be replicated anywhere else. A happy start to a Father’s Day with her whole family.

The happiest Father’s Day in Winry’s childhood.

*****

When Winry was a little older, her parents left to take parts in the civil war against Ishval as medics. It was hard on the entire family. When they left, Winry’s world had been shaken up. Gone were the days where she could wake up and greet both her parents during breakfast before leaving for school. At night, when she had nightmares, she could no longer run to their room expecting comfort. Her parents wrote back whenever they could, but they were busy and their letters were few and far between.

Winry tried her best to not cry for them. Ed called her a baby when she did once. Maybe it was because he rarely, if not never cried for his parents. Al cried with her, but only for a few times. Afterwards she tried to be strong for them. They were in a war after all. Her parents needed to be strong. Why shouldn’t she be strong with them?

But for some days, she couldn’t help it. Those were the days which reminded her of her parents. So much so that the sadness and emotion their absence became unavoidable feelings. She would allow herself to cry to her heart's content on those days. Those were the days where crying was a comfort. Where her tears flowed freely because she longed that her parents would return safe and sound. She cried on Mama and Papa’s birthdays. She cried on Mother’s Day. She cried on Father’s day.

She sat on her bed, her blonde hair untied. Her blue eyes slowly turning red. It was the first thing she did that morning, and she secretly resented the fact that she couldn’t hold it in until later in the day. Surely she had to be stronger for them? But here she was. She couldn’t even last until lunchtime.

A small voice in her mind was telling her to get up. Freshen up. Go and eat breakfast. Do something that would make her feel better. But she felt trapped by her emotion. Leaving crying to be the only thing she could do. She rubbed her wet cheeks dry, providing a space for the fresh tears to fall.

In-between sobs, she heard a small, wooden sound. A _tap, tap, tap_ that came from the door. She knew it was Granny Pinako. Who else would be at their house this early in the morning? She sucked in a sniffle, and walked to the door. Wiping away her tears, she tried to rid the evidence of her mourning.

By Granny was more perceptive than that. The minute Winry opened the door, Pinako looked at her with grandmotherly concern. “You were just crying, weren’t you?”

Winry nodded, unsure of what else to say.

Pinako walked into her room, and asked her to sit down. “Now, come here Winry. It’s alright, you can cry. This is hard on the both of us here.” Winry’s tear flowed freely once more, and she reached up to rub them away.

“I-I-I’m just s-scared that M-mama and P-papa w-w…” she broke off, and erupted into a series of sobs. Pinako sat down beside her, and patiently waited for her to finish. She patted her back gently, bringing Winry some form of physical comfort.

“I understand. Your old grandma’s afraid of that too, dear. It’s a perfectly reasonable fear.” She pulled Winry into a hug, and allowed her to cry on her shoulder. “It’s alright.”

“B-but how c-can it be alright g-grandm-ma?” Wailed Winry. “We don’t even know if they’re safe out there.”

“There there…” Pinako comforted. “Winry, I wish I could have told you this when you are older, but the truth is that sometimes you have to trust that people can take care of themselves. It’s hard, I know. But you know your parents. They’re strong, and capable. I’m positive that they can make it out alive.”

“B-but what if they don’t?”

Pinako took a moment to consider her answer. Poor girl. She shouldn’t have to go through something like this, especially at such a young age. Damn military. “That’s something that only the future knows. Winry dear, you’ve been doing an excellent job being strong so far. I’m sure your parents would be very proud of you once they get home.”

Winry sniffled. “Y-you know they’ll c-come back?”

“Of course. You parents are some of the strongest people I know. I know for certain that they would get back. Sometimes, Winry, you need to trust that others will be strong for you,just like how you're strong for them” She turned to the piece of paper in her hand. Ah, she had almost forgotten what she was here for.

“And anyways, I know for sure that they’re still alright. Because we have a new letter from them.”

Winry’s tear-stained face immediately grew a smile the moment Pinako said that. “Really?” She held up the envelope as proof.

“The evening post delivered it yesterday. But you were tired out from practicing automail repair, so I thought that it’d be better to wait for the next day.” She opened the envelope with a single _rip_ , and took out the letter.

“Well then grandma, what does it say?”

“Hold on...” she adjusted her glasses, and started to read their letter.

*****

When Winry first heard the news of their death, her already shaken world got flipped upside down. Nothing felt remotely the same ever again.

The biggest change she noticed was that she stopped crying during her the important dates. She stopped crying during their birthdays. She stopped crying during Mother’s Day. She stopped crying during Father’s Day. Sure, she still cried on other days. Small sob sessions where tears ran out of her eyes and rolled down her cheeks, before she pulled herself together and continued working. The day she found out about their death, she cried herself to sleep. But she never cried on those important dates anymore.

She wished she did, though. Sadness and pain were far more manageable emotions than the ones that replaced it. At least sadness and pain could be purged with tears.

What filled her heart on those days instead were far more ugly. She identified those feelings almost immediately. Anger. Envy. Hatred. Those were what filled her on those days. She would go out into town, and see someone talk about their father, and those feelings would spark up again. Like a dragon blowing flames into her heart.

Ed was just as angry as she was, but for entirely different reasons. He was angry at his father, and at his father only. And Al had a way of grieving that was better if he did it without their intervention. They were just too angry to help him much. This all made Winry feel rather selfish.

Al was in need of quiet mourning. Ed was angry at his father because of his mother. But the cause of Winry’s anger was her envy towards other people. Other people who did have their parents. The children of the farmers and the repairmen and the shepherds. Parents who never needed to go through the chaos and uncertainty of a war. Why couldn’t she have that? She needed someone to blame, but she did not have enough fingers to point. The anger boiled and bubbled on within her, and did nothing but let the guilt inside of her grow. How selfish. On that special day, meant to celebrate all fathers, there she was thinking about herself. She couldn’t even bring herself to grieve properly. With tears and sadness and everything.

No, instead she had to deal with death with sharp, fierce anger.

There was one day where she felt something other than anger, however. That one day would always stand out in her memories. She remembered it, as clear as a crystal ball. Ed and Al had started their journey to get their bodies back. She was around thirteen or fourteen. She was working on some automail for a farmer in need of an arm. There had been some sort of accident, and as an automail mechanic, it was her job to fix what others could not by themselves.

She wondered if anyone else could help her fix what she couldn’t by herself.

The day he was supposed to come in, it just so happened to be Father’s Day. And the man brought his young daughter along. Just like when Winry was young, she had bright blue eyes, short blonde hair, round rosy cheeks, and unpierced ears. Just like when Winry was young, she was innocent and curious and ask questions all throughout the fitting.

“How does automail work?” She would ask. Winry patiently explained the science behind it. Talking about metal work and the nervous system in a way the young child could understand. She nodded at every other sentence. Her blue eyes watched on as Winry cautiously attached the metal arm to her father. And when he let out a hiss of pain, she squeaked out a concerned “Papa!”

“It’s alright sweetie. Papa is fine.” He gave her a thumbs up with his free arm. And although she smiled back, Winry could tell that the girl was still worried. Her brows were still furrowed in worry and she still watched the older girl like a tiny guard dog.

She didn’t blame her. After her Papa went through that accident and all.

Once they paid up and left, Winry looked at her messy workbench, and started to clean up. But as she did, she kept thinking about the father and daughter. A pair like them would usually spark some sort of anger in her. Especially on Father’s Day. But this time, a familiar feeling filled her instead.

She stopped sweeping up the scrap metal. The brush and dustpan, she placed them on her desk. Slowly, she sank into her chair, and removed her green bandana. She allowed her long blonde hair to fall, covering her pierced ears and pale cheeks, no longer rosy from smiling. Her hands combed through her hair, attempting to make it neater. But she gave that endeavour up soon. Because she felt her face getting wetter by the second, and she needed both her hands to wipe her tears away.

*****

The first phone call Winry got after the Promised Day was Paninya. She had hoped it would be Ed and Al, but those three just loved to surprise her. Winry could imagine the dark-skinned girl using the LeCoulte family’s phone. Seated on the table, her automail legs folded against her chest, a cheeky smile on her face.

The conversation started out about how they were doing. How intense The Promised Day was, and how relieved they were now that it was all over.

“Ed and Al really went through a lot didn’t they?” Paninya said. Winry could vaguely hear her shifting her sitting position. The way her metal legs made a light sort of ‘chink’ sound.

“Yeah, they did. But the good news is, they got their bodies back.”

“Really?” Paninya’s voice immediately perked up. “That’s great! Hey, tell them that I think it’s about time, and I’d probably mail them flowers or something. I can finally afford my own now, with my own hard earned money,” she bragged.

The two girls laughed at Paninya’s comedic tone of voice. Then Paninya changed her tone to one of sincerity. “In all seriousness though, I do want to buy some flowers for them. I’m probably gonna buy some anyways.”

“Hm, how come?”

“Because Father’s Day is coming,” she answered.

“Oh, yeah you’re right,” said Winry. So much had happened in the previous year, she had forgotten about it.

“Yeah. Every year in the past I could never steal Mr Dominic anything he wanted. But this year I think he may accept something I bought with my own money. I already bought Mrs LeCoulte carnations for Mother’s Day, and she loved those. This time though, I saved up more money, and I think I can afford those roses the florist sells. They only have red and white though.” She sighed. “Guess it’s better than cheap flowers.”

“Mmhm.”

“Hey, speaking of Father’s Day, what are you planning on doing this year?” She asked. Winry could tell it was an innocent question. Paninya wasn’t the type to be outright malicious.

“Hm, I don’t have any plans, honestly.” She chuckled. “I should start setting up some sort of ritual to remember them by. Who knows. This year I think I’d probably take a page out of your book and put flowers at their graves.” She rubbed her chin. It did sound like a good idea. She could afford the flowers too. Maybe she could even ask Ed and Al to chip in.

“Mm…” There were a few muffled noises in the background. Paninya responded to the sounds with an “Okay,” then said, “Gotta go now Win. Mr Dominic says he’s expecting an important call this afternoon. Seeya.”

“Bye.”

With that, Paninya hung up.

Winry placed the phone back neatly, and leaned further back into her chair. She was grateful a friend like Paninya often managed to give her something good to think about.

Recalling her time at Rush Valley, she remembered the tiny glass jar of money Paninya kept with her. Everyday, after lunch, she would slide her change into it before going back to work again. Those were her savings, and she always talked about using that money someday to buy the LeCoultes some presents. She planned on flowers for Mrs LeCoulte, a toolkit for Mr LeCoulte’s birthday, a toy for the baby boy. But back then she didn’t know what to give Mr Dominic. He didn’t seem to celebrate his birthday, so she only had Father’s Day to get him something.

What was interesting to her was the fact that Dominic was not her biological father. In the past, she had assumed that the day was only for those. But Paninya brought up many good points when they were both living in Rush Valley. How a biological father may never act as a father. How orphans could celebrate it with the father figures in their lives. How someone doesn’t stop becoming a father once he died.

Previously, she had used this day for mourning. To remember the man he was when he was alive. But Paninya brought very good points when they discussed the topic of Father’s Day all those months ago. Another orphan like her, she understood her better than most of her friends in Resembool did. It felt nice to be understood, yet challenged.

She walked over to her purse, counter her money, then told Granny, Ed and Al that she was going out. “I think Dad would like some flowers for Father’s Day, don’t you?”

“You’re gonna get flowers?” Asked Al, his face brightening up.

“Yeah, you wanna come along?”

“Al needs to stay here and rest. But if you want to get some flowers for your Dad…” Pinako pulled a few notes of money out of her pocket, and handed it to her.

“Get some extra for Hohenheim too. I don’t think he did a good job parenting, but I can’t just leave him alone like that,” she whispered into her ear.

She nodded, and left the house with a basket. Quickly, she made her way down the path. A familiar place, she drew from her memory the direction she should head for.

Eventually, she made her way to a little florist stand being run by her friend, Nelly. The two girls politely greeted each other with a wave each. Then Winry pointed to the white roses.

“Good afternoon Nelly. I’d like two dozens of these white roses, please.”

“Oh, sure thing Winry.” Nelly immediately got to work, folding the roses up into dark brown paper. “Are you expecting someone special? Did Ed finally propose to you?” She asked, a coy look on her face.

“Ah, Nelly!” The two girls giggled at that comment. “Actually, he hasn’t made any moves yet. But I think we have time. We’re all only sixteen.”

“I know, I know. But you know boys. They can take forever to talk about their feelings.” She places the two dozen roses into a paper bag. “Who are these for anyways? They’ll be 500 cenz.”

“Ah, these are for my Dad. Ed and Al’s father too.” She gratefully received the flowers from her, and handed her the money.

“Oh, he returned?”

“Well… sort of. It’s pretty complicated. But anyways, thank you.” She gently placed the flowers into her basket, and walked away, waving goodbye at Nelly.

She headed toward the graveyard, and scouted around until she spotted a gravestone with ‘Van Hohenheim’ engraved onto it. He was buried right next to Trisha Elric. There, she divided the flowers up. Six flowers for Trisha, to make up for Mother’s Day. And six flowers for Hohenheim.

She then moved on to the more familiar set of graves. The placement of the two were so familiar, she felt like she could walk there with her eyes closed. Two tall grey slabs stood before her, right next to each other, with ‘Yuriy Rockbell’ and ‘Sara Rockbell’ engraved on them in jagged lettering.

They weren’t even properly buried there. Their bodies, once discovered, were too mangled and ruined to do much with. Her parents were probably brought to a mass grave somewhere in the remains of Ishval. She screwed her hands into tight fists. Damn military.

They put up the gravestones to remember them, even if they couldn’t be buried. She visited them a lot when she was younger. Before she had reached acceptance with their death.Very early on, she would talk to them about any topic that was on her mind. Her anger at the military and their killer. How she worried over Ed and Al. The ups and downs of her friendships and school life. But eventually, when she grew up, her visits became increasingly silent. She thought that talking to them would be rather silly. When she tried to speak up, it felt awkward to be greeted with nothing but silence. So she stopped doing it.

But that day, she felt rather differently about things. She felt different simply standing at their grave, in all honesty. Standing there, she knew that she was no longer the grieving little girl that talked to their graves. She was now a young woman. A young woman who had reached acceptance with their deaths.

But despite making peace with their deaths, she still felt like talking to them a little.

She arranged the roses neatly. Six for her Mom, to make up for Mother’s Day. And six for her Dad. Then, she knelt beside them, placed the basket to one side, and sighed. “Hi Mom, Dad. It’s been a while, I know…”

*****

Winry woke up early that morning. Slowly, she stretched and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She sat up on bed, and turned to see her Edward still soundly sleeping. A small smile graced her face as she watched him. Though she was tempted to brush the hair out of his face, she did not want to risk waking him up.

She turned to face the small photo of her parents and her when she was little. It stood right next to her bed,on the bedside table. A place where it could greet her every morning when she woke up. The smiles of their little family were all bright, happy, and it would never be something Winry could recreate.

She got herself dressed, and headed to the next room to wake Curtis and Sara up.

Winry had told them how she used to help make breakfast for their grandpa on Father’s Day. When they heard that, the energetic tots immediately wanted to help out with the cooking. That was the most excited they had been ever since they moved to Rush Valley.

In the kitchen, Winry instructed Curtis to help break the eggs, while Sara was to whisk them. In the meantime, Winry herself melted butter into a small frying pan. Constantly flipping between her own personal task, and checking to make sure her children were not making too much of a mess, she had to balance a lot. Silently, she wished she had chosen something simpler than eggs to make that morning. Mama had the right idea, getting a toddler to help with cold cereal.

Fortunately, they managed to crack the eggs with only one dropped on the floor. A few chipped eggshells found themselves mixed into the eggs, but Winry managed to dig them out with a teaspoon. She tossed the spoon into the sink, then slowly poured the egg into the pan. It oozed out, sizzling and bubbling in the butter. The savoury smell of it cooking filled the air, and Winry reached into the spice cabinet to pull out some salt and rosemary. Gently, she sprinkled them in. Pushing the egg around with her spatula, she folded it and scrambled it the way she knew Ed liked it.

Just as she finished with the eggs, she felt a tug at her pyjamas. She looked down, and saw Curtis holding up a piece of paper at her. Sara stood next to him, looking up at her with bright blue eyes. Ed told her when she was born that her daughter had her eyes. But outside of the colour, she did not see much of herself in them. Ed only chuckled when she told him that.

She placed the eggs onto a plate, and then picked up the paper to see what he wanted to show her. Before her, were several crayon scribblings. The smallest two were Curtis and Sara themselves, their mouths little u-shaped smiles. Then there was a slightly bigger one, who she identified as Ed. And beside him, also with long blonde hair and a noseless face, was her. Next to all of them, she could still identify the others there. Paninya, the LeCoultes, Garfiel, Al, Mei…

“Wow, Curtis, Sara, did you two draw this yourselves?” The two of them grinned and responded with a nod each. Winry smiled at her children. How darling of them.

“Well, this is quite a lovely drawing you two did. You both certainly have the talent to become great artists someday.” Winry rubbed her chin, and suddenly a small bit of nostalgia, like a dart, hit her. She was reminded of something she did when she was younger. Something which she hoped her kids would not mind her doing. “Would you guys like me to write a note for Papa?”

Her children looked up at her for a moment, blinked, then they both curtly responded “Yes.”

Winry could only chuckle. She supposed that she was a bit older than they were when she made her father his card. They weren’t quite at the stage where their words were something they could wield. Still, it was the thought that counted. They wanted to give a message to their father, then as their mother she should help them.

So she took a pen off the kitchen counter, and helped her kids write down the lovely message they had for their father. It read:

_Dear Papa,_   
_Happy Father’s Day!_   
_Love,_   
_Curtis and Sara_

It was a simple letter. It was a simple breakfast. But before Winry went back to the kitchen to make some more eggs for the family, she took a moment to look at the drawing her children made once more.

She still believed that that picture taken of her parents and her was irreplaceable. There would never be another Yuriy and Sara Rockbell in her life. She knew that. But even if she never got to see them ever again, she still could not think of a single thing she would trade to bring them back. It did hurt sometimes, the knowledge that they would never see their grandchildren. The fact that they never saw Winry grow up to who she is today. The thought that her father never got to welcome Ed into the family. Those feelings of sadness did come back every now and then.

Yet, once her tears were wiped and her grievances aired, she could find a joy filling her again. Ed helping to wipe her tears away. Mei to talk to on the phone. Al to remember them with. Her children to look after. Yes, their deaths may still sometimes cause her grief, but it did get better. Every time that hole in her heart was ripped open again, she felt it close up. Faster, neater, and less painful every time.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a song to listen to while you watch it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CG4oXPxUIGs


End file.
